


Sweet Dreams

by bunnymoose



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Disintegrate, F/M, Fancypants spell creation, Not Really Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28192074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnymoose/pseuds/bunnymoose
Summary: Caleb Widogast was keenly aware of three things. First, the current time was nearly three o’clock in the morning. Second, the insistent tap-tap-tapping against his nose was unmistakably that of a cat who was hells-bent on rousing him from slumber. Third, unlike other felines, none of the cats in the Tower would ever interrupt his sleep without a reason. Not even Frumpkin.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 14
Kudos: 44





	Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DOOMLover21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DOOMLover21/gifts).



> This is a gift for DOOMLover21 for the Widojest Love server's Secret Santa 2020 event. The prompt I chose was angst/nightmares and while there are elements of both, this fic is also quite fluffy because hey, it's the holidays. Have some Widojest cheer!

Caleb Widogast was keenly aware of three things. First, the current time was nearly three o’clock in the morning. Second, the insistent tap-tap-tapping against his nose was unmistakably that of a cat who was hells-bent on rousing him from slumber. Third, unlike other felines, none of the cats in the Tower would ever interrupt his sleep without a reason. Not even Frumpkin. 

With a muffled incantation into his pillow and a snap of his fingers, Caleb ignited a small flame in his palm--enough to illuminate the space without immediately setting the bedsheets ablaze. Squinting against the brightness, he met the wide, expectant stare of a familiar spectral cat sitting beside him. Its tail thumped impatiently against the mattress as if to say ‘ _Finally! It took you long enough!_ ’

Perhaps he only imagined the sass. Still, the cat’s presence struck him as odd, as he’d assumed that this particular one would have been warming someone else’s bed at this hour. 

“Mittens? What is the matter?”

“ _Meow,_ ” the cat replied, hopping off the bed. He bounded to the bedroom door and stood against it, stretching his forepaws as high as he could reach towards the handle before glancing back at Caleb. He meowed again.

Caleb blinked. “You… want me to let you out? The door is not necessary for you. That is what the tunnels are for.” 

Mittens dropped to the floor with an irritated _mrrow_ and leapt back up beside Caleb. Sinking a claw into the fabric of his nightshirt, the little cat tugged him with surprising force in the direction of the door. 

“ _Meow!”_

Caleb immediately felt a little foolish as the cat’s yell banished the last of the fog from his mind. Of course Mittens could use the tunnels. That was how he had arrived in Caleb’s room in the first place. _You’re slipping, Widogast_ , he thought wryly. 

Shaking his arm free, Caleb nodded and raised a placating hand. “Ja. Ja, okay, okay, I understand. Sheath your daggers, please, _Katze_.”

Mittens returned to the door and paced while Caleb stuffed his feet haphazardly into his boots and trailed after, strapping his books instinctively across his shoulders as he did so.

<>\------------------------<>

They did not stop at Jester’s door as expected, instead floating down and down again. _Eins, zwei, drei_ . When they emerged through the ceiling of the library, Mittens circled about Caleb in graceful spirals before touching down on the floor of the library’s lower level. ‘ _We are here_ ,’ he seemed to say.

“Show off,” Caleb mumbled as he landed beside the cat with significantly less flair and turned in place, scanning the library for any sign of disturbance. The perpetually well-stoked fire in the hearth bathed the room from carpet to ceiling in soft, flickering amber hues. Molly’s stained glass mural appeared to be intact, as did the bookshelves, and furniture, at least from this distance. At present, no dicks--hidden or otherwise--could be seen. In fact, nothing at all seemed amiss… 

Until someone sniffled. 

Caleb whirled around, nearly tripping in his unbuckled boots, catching a glimpse of Jester’s tail peeking out from an armchair in the furthest corner of the salon. The seat’s tall backing obscured the rest of her from view. 

Mittens rubbed himself against Caleb’s leg, the motion nudging his foot slightly towards Jester’s direction. 

“Good work, friend,” Caleb said, leaning down to scritch behind the little cat’s ears. “Tell the others to bring some pastries and a glass of milk to the library, please.”

The cat accepted his well-deserved praise, then darted into a kitty-sized passage. 

Across the room Jester sniffled again, a little softer this time, and Caleb’s lips pulled into a frown. There were many places within the Tower he expected to find Jester Lavorre: pestering or even assisting the cats in the kitchens, balancing atop a library ladder while carving dicks into its rungs (his mind supplied a myriad of innuendos she would likely say to accompany the prank). Even, perhaps, visiting their resident sea captain in his quarters. But of all the places he might’ve found her, he never thought she would be crying alone in the library at three in the morning.

Caleb exhaled resolutely through his nose and moved towards her hiding place, intercepting a medium-sized spectral tuxedo cat carrying a silver tray of goodies balanced on its tail. Its head tilted as if to ask, ‘ _Where to?_ ’

“Ah, Jakob, I will take it from here,” Caleb said. The dapper feline relinquished the platter and darted back towards the kitchens to continue preparing food for the next morning.

Jester didn’t seem to notice the exchange. She remained curled in her plush maroon armchair, her knees tucked towards her chest and the hem of her pink nightdress brushing her bare feet. Her fingers slowly wound and unwound the satin ribbon tied beneath her tail spade. He would’ve assumed her to be daydreaming if not for the shine of tear tracks on her cheeks.

Caleb’s boots made hardly a noise on the carpeted floor as he approached and lowered the tray. 

“Pastry for your thoughts?”

Jester jumped, nearly smacking everything out of his hands with her horn. “Caleb! You scared the shit out of me!”

He chuckled, his voice a breathy whisper even though no one else could hear them. “Sorry to have startled you. You look like you could use some of these.” 

“How did you know I was down here?” she whispered back, wiping her face quickly on her sleeve. Likely hoping he hadn’t seen. He would not mention it.

“Oh. Well--”

“ _Mrrow!_ ” yelled Mittens as he appeared on Jester’s other side. 

“That one decided I had slept enough and insisted I follow him here,” Caleb said, seating himself in an armchair beside her and placing the snacks on the wooden end table between them. “Though I suppose his reasons were good.”

“Is that true, Mittens? Did you wake Cayleb up too early?” Jester scooped Mittens onto her lap, carding her fingers through his spectral fur. The cat melted into a puddle of purrs.“You really shouldn’t do that, you know. He needs his sleep to get his spells back for tomorrow.” 

_So do you,_ Caleb thought, noting the rim of purple beneath her tired eyes. Instead he cleared his throat. “Are you alright? You look troubled.” 

Jester nodded. “I just had a little nightmare. It’s nothing. I’m fine, really.”

“Hm. Well, they say that eating sugary sweets before bed leads to nightmares. Perhaps you should not have any more for tonight.” He pulled the tray closer towards his side of the table. 

“Cay-leb!”

He smiled crookedly at her playful pout and recentered the tray. The brief moment of levity dispelled some of her gloom, but it lingered over her like a shadow. Jester, meanwhile, munched on a cupcake piled high with buttercream frosting and little star-shaped sprinkles.

“It must have been a terrible one to keep you up like this. If… if you would like to talk about it I am here for you, ja? After all, you have listened to me many times before.”

Jester’s shrug signaled that she was trying to be nonchalant about it, but her tail coiled about her legs in what appeared to be a self-soothing gesture. She didn’t seem to notice its placement as she spoke. 

“It didn’t start out bad.” 

_Nightmares never do_ , he thought. 

“I was swimming with lots of colorful fish and really tiny sea turtles. One of them was wearing a cute little backpack with a shiny dark red pearl inside. I traded a cupcake to her in exchange for the pearl because it reminded me of Mama and that maybe I could give it to her as a present or something. A pearl that color seemed super rare, you know?”

“Ja, I have never seen one like that before,” Caleb said. “It sounds like a good dream so far.” 

“It definitely was! Suddenly the pearl started glowing brighter and brighter and started to burn my hand. I dropped it, but instead of falling it floated up and got bigger and uglier until it looked like Vokodo.” She reached outwards, fingers splayed and wiggling like tentacles.

“Did we kick his ass?”

“Pffft. Thothally!” She scoffed, half a bear claw in her cheek. She swallowed. “He was super scared of us since we’re so strong, you know?” 

“Of course. We are the ‘Mighty Nein.’ It is in our title.”

Jester’s smile faltered, then. Her fingers fiddled again with the ribbon on her tail. 

“That was not the end, ja?” Caleb prompted.

“I mean, we killed him, but then the water around us got hot, like, really fast. Maybe from the lava in the room or inside of him, I don’t know. I just…” Her words began spilling out faster. “My body started turning to dust and I freaked out. I tried to scream but only bubbles came out so I couldn’t call out to Artie or Caduceus for help. The last thing I thought was that I was never going to see Mama again and the rest of me fell apart and--” 

“Jester!” Caleb said, grasping one of her flailing hands from across the table and interlacing their fingers.

Jester jolted at the contact, meeting his gaze with wild eyes before remembering her surroundings. Safe. Her body remained intact and all hers. Well, except for the hand Caleb held. Cheeks flushing purple, she relaxed.

“--and when I woke up I realized I’d scared away the cats that were cuddling with me,” she finished lamely.

“They will come around. It is impossible to hold a grudge against you, Lavorre,” he said, giving her fingers what he hoped was a comforting squeeze before relinquishing his hold. “That _was_ quite the nightmare.”

Caleb was grateful for his keen mind in moments like this when Jester smiled, each one uniquely nuanced, yet equally beautiful. This one was small, but appreciative, and he tucked it into his heart. 

Unfortunately, every coin has its opposite side. It did not escape his notice that the terror Jester described was the result of a disintegrate spell which he’d chosen to wield. Using that spell had been a gamble; a proverbial roll of the dice against the creature’s magical forcefield. He had been so confident, so sure that the risk would be worth it. In terms of the battle, it was, but knowing that his actions left such an indelible mark on Jester’s subconscious to twist her dreams to nightmares? The tips of his ears burned. _You did this._

“I am sorry it caused you so much pain,” he managed. 

Dusting the sugar from her fingers back onto the tray, Jester offered a shrug. “It’s not your fault, Caleb. Everyone has scary dreams. Mine are nothing special.” 

“Nein, that is not true at all,” he said immediately. Much too quickly.

Jester glanced up at him, cocking her head to one side. Her eyes narrowed in a way that left Caleb feeling exposed. Instinctively he looked elsewhere, somehow knowing that if he maintained more than a second’s worth of that gaze she would look straight into his soul and see the truth of his useless feelings laid bare. Perhaps she already did.

Caleb cleared his throat. “I-I mean it is true that everyone has them from time to time, but that does not mean they are not worth addressing. Is there anything I can do?”

She tilted her head the other way and tapped her chin, considering for a moment. Eventually she shook her head, making the silver jewelry dangling from her horns jingle.

“I mean, if you’ve got some fancy-pants spell to make dreams not so scary then sure, but I wouldn’t ask you to cast it on me every night. That would be such a paaaaain,” she said, her voice slowing into a deep yawn. The lateness of the hour was catching up with her. She stood and stretched from head to tail with almost feline grace before picked up the plate of pastries. “Thank you for listening, though. I think it actually helped to say it all out loud.”

“Anytime, Jester,” he said. _Anything you need._

“I think I can go back to sleep now. Can I bring these to my room?”

“Yes. They are all yours.”

“Awesome!” she said. She paused a moment longer, one fang catching her lower lip. “Goodnight, Caleb.” 

“ _Gute nacht_ , Jester. Oh!” He snapped his fingers as she passed and Frumpkin poofed beside her bare feet. “Take Frumpkin with you. You already know but he is, um, he is a good cuddler.”

The Fey King and the tiefling returned to the upper levels, but Caleb remained, mulling over the details of Jester’s nightmare and their brief conversation again and again. 

_Some fancy-pants spell to make dreams less scary_ , she’d said. 

Caleb rose and with every step towards the library shelves an idea took form. He traced his fingers along the spines, stopping on a thick leather-bound tome, and tugging it from the shelf. Two more books from the second tier’s shelves followed quickly behind. Caleb hummed with excitement as he ascended to the 7th floor laboratory. By now he was somewhat versed in spells and theories pertaining to the School of Illusion, but as far as he knew, no spell in existence would accomplish the precise task he had in mind.

That never stopped him before. 

  
  


<>\------------------------<>

  
  


Jester dashed across the icy tundra, her fur-lined boots nearly slipping out from under her in the loosely packed snow. Thirty yards away, her duplicate did fall, disappearing for barely one second into a snowbank before scrambling to her feet. 

_Too slow._

Rumbling from beneath the ground barrelled in their direction, intensifying in volume and movement like a speeding stampede before erupting in a shower of icy shards near Jester’s copy. The frost worm arched its plated back and roared with an ear-splitting shriek of triumph. Jester froze in place, not paralyzed as the others were, but locked in fear as she watched the worm swoop down and seize the duplicate with its first row of vicious teeth, toss her screaming into the air like a small candy, and swallow her whole. Jester regretted asking Artie to teach her to make her duplicate talk. She regretted a lot of things. 

Only minutes before this, she and the rest of the Nein were taking a winter holiday in Eiselcross before traveling with Dagen and Vess. There’d been a real snowball fight, made lots of snow angels (or devils as Veth called them, standing after each one and punching all sorts of odd appendages to her silhouette), and nearly finished what Jester was sure to be Wildemount’s largest snow-dick before the familiar rumble shook her sculpture to pieces.

The worm was wiser this time and refused to polymorph, even as Jester and Caleb blew through their spells to accomplish it. Rather than take everyone on at once, the creature burrowed in all directions, causing the ice beneath them to shift and collapse into chasms between plateaus. Once separated, the worm trilled its hideous cry and all but Jester once again fell prone. The creature bent to sniff each of its meals in turn. 

“Hey ugly! Over here!” she cried using thaumaturgy to enhance her voice and waving her arms wildly. Though it didn’t have ears, it seemed to notice the change in soundwaves and reared its multi-mouthed head at Jester. “I’m the one who turned you into a turtle. Come and get me!”

And that was how she ended up stranded and alone in the middle of an arctic wasteland. No more spells. No allies. Just her and the frost worm whose vendetta was about to be satisfied. Jester squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for a miracle. 

Just then, a sound--not like a snake but like the wick of an active fuse--hissed to life above her. Jester peeked one eye open to find a circle of sparkling amber light swirling twenty feet above her head, between her and the worm. After a moment, blobs of yellow-amber light began bobbing from within the ring. They started small, some changing in color from blue to pink to purple, doubling every second in size and shifting in form until manifesting as large hamster unicorns the size of cows. Each one flipped and swam through the air around Jester, nuzzling against her back, her head, her side. Equally enormous pink lollipops like her spiritual weapon shined in the harsh daylight and spun candy-over-stick around her. 

Jester giggled with delight, her hands pressed to her cheeks. She was immediately aware of three things. First, this was obviously a dream. Second, this was probably most definitely the coolest dream she had ever had. Third, she may be--no, she was--the greatest trickster that ever walked the earth, but Caleb was the greatest wizard of all time. She would definitely have to find some way to thank him when she woke up. Would she remember any of this? Jester hoped so.

“ALRIGHT, EVERYBODY!” she shouted, leaping up to grab the handle of a lollipop and holding on until she stood atop its candied bottom, still holding the stick. She pointed a finger at the frost worm, who tilted its head comically at the army of creatures before it. 

“LET CHAOS REIGN!”

  
  


<>\-----------------------------<>

  
  


The lithe spectral cat perched atop the canopy of Jester’s bed peeked over its painted edge, observing the tiefling below. Most of her covers and feline bedfellows were displaced, not an unusual sight. More importantly, all signs of distress--increased breathing rate, tossing and turning, and sweating--seemed to normalize as the device suspended above Jester’s bed sizzled became inert once more in response. 

Padding gently onto the fabric, the cat gripped the dreamcatcher by its outer loop and scurried through the aqueducts. Up, left, left, hopping to an upper entrance, then right, left, and right again, emerging onto a bookshelf near his master’s side of the laboratory. The wizard himself sat at his workbench, scratching notes into one of his books. As the cat approached, Caleb set his quill down. 

“Ah, Phantasus, I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, reaching for the loop with one hand and scratching beneath the feline’s chin with the other. “How did our little contraption work?”

“Moww,” Phantasus replied, affirming the results. 

Caleb smiled. “Excellent. One moment, my friend.” 

Clearing a space on the table, he set the dreamcatcher down. It was an unassuming thing: brown, wrapped outer loop; webbing dusted with a little phosphorus; and eight small amber beads placed methodically within. 

“Blaubeere,” the wizard said. The amber flashed brightly in response. When the light faded, there appeared in the open center of the threads a bit of fleece and a large owl feather quill. These Caleb moved aside temporarily before fishing out a glass vial of Nicodranian sand and a small wooden box of jade stones from a drawer. Technically speaking, he did follow Jester's request. He did not need to cast the spell--this hybrid illusion magic--on her every night. The spell only triggered when the target, in this case Jester, exhibited signs of distress while sleeping. True, some consumable components needed to be replaced each time, but it was no trouble. Not in the least.

While Caleb pulverized a green-tinted stone with a wave of his hand, Phantasus batted at the fleece. It stuck to his claws momentarily before float-skipping to the table’s edge. 

“No, no. That is not a toy,” Caleb said, shooing the cat’s paw away. He grumbled but watched with curiosity as his master added a pile of sand, a smaller pile of green dust, and a single careful drop of ink along with the feather and fleece to the center of the dreamcatcher. 

“Blaubeere,” Caleb said again, and in a flash the items disappeared within the amber beads. Nodding his approval, he handed the item back to Phantasus. “Please return this to Miss Lavorre’s room, then you are free to go.” 

The cat meowed his agreement and disappeared into a kitty-tunnel to fulfill his mission. Caleb nodded at the place where the dreamcatcher laid, satisfied. 

“Sweet dreams, Jester.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun facts and language translation: 
> 
> In Greek mythology, Phantasus and Phobetor are two of the sons of Hypnos, the god of sleep. They are responsible for sending dreams of inanimate objects and animals, respectively, to the dreamer. I tried combining both names into a suitable moniker for Caleb's messenger cat, but nothing sounded great, so Phantasus it stayed.
> 
> "Blaubeere" is German for "Blueberry" (if Google Translate is to be trusted).
> 
> For those who might be curious, the spell Caleb created is a blend of Dream (to alter the content of someone's dream), Programmed Image (to set a trigger for when the Dream spell would activate), Widogast's Vault of Amber (for storing spell components within the dreamcatcher), and Widogast's Web of Fire (to consume the consumable components). That last one's mostly for flair, as I'm pretty sure fire isn't necessary for using these illusion spells, but this is Caleb. So, fire.


End file.
